Pai Sho and Pieces
by Raawiyah
Summary: A growing collection of one shots and drabbles ... some based on Pai Sho :
1. Introduction & Notes

Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or Pai Sho or this computer I'm writing this on or…..

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_Authoress Notes:_

_you can so skip this intro. It is mostly to satisfy my overwhelming OCDness _

_Pai Sho is a game from the Avatar-Verse. While no official details have been released Foolster41of the Pai Sho Project has pieced together his own guideline, theory and history. Below you will find a slightly altered and condensed set of rules. For the complete set of his rules please go to paisho. dedicate the following pieces to him and the combined spirits of Chess, __Wéiqí__ (Go), __Halma( Chinese Checkers)__ and Ikebana (Japanese flower arranging)._

_Thanks for reading!!!!_

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**Pai Sho**

**Rules**

_The Board_

The game is played on a circular board with a 18x18 square grid with the corners cut off. In the center is a diamond shape divided in to four quarters with white and red at opposite corners. A Pai Sho board has 256 spaces on it

_Sitting_

Two players sit across from one another. The drawn tip closest to you is called "the home tip". The tip closest to your opponent is called "the foreign tip". The other two tips are call "east" and "west" tips. The "Sides" are divided by the line in the center

_Set Up_

Players decide how many pieces they begin with. The minimum is 4, the maximum is 12. All staring pieces must be flowers only. Each player gets 54 tiles.

3 each of the Special Tiles: White Dragon, White Lotus, Knotweed, Wheel, Rock, Boat

6 each of the Red Flower Tiles: Jasmine, White Lilly, White Jade

6 each of the White Flower Tile: Rose, Chrysanthemum, Rhododendron

Each Pai Sho Pieces has a unique function. They all have different strengths and weaknesses. Using each of the tiles correctly is the key to winning.

_Play/Rules_

-Each player on their turn may make one of 4 moves:

-Move a tile

-Add a new tile to the board.

-Use a Special Tile

-Pass his turn.

_Objective_

To arrange your tiles in a way that gains the most points either by generating "harmonies" (alignment of two or more similar flower tiles), or capturing your opponents tile.

_Ending the Game_

The game ends under the following 3 conditions: one of the players (or both) run out of tiles, players pass in a row or both players declare they have no moves left.

_Determining the Winner_

At the end of the game additional points are awarded based on the following

1 point for each white tile in the white and yellow zone, 1 point for each red tile in the white and red zone.

2 points for each remaining harmony

Player who removed the most tiles takes 1 point for every tile removed from the board (including tiles captured from him)

Player with the most points wins


	2. Movements

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**Movements**

_Some Pai Sho players see themselves as artists, see the Pai Sho board as a blank piece of parchment which they change, color and create with their movements. Instead let us envision it (the Pai Sho board) as a gentle river, and ourselves as stones along it's bend.  
In this way the movements change, color and recreate us._

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She had always been aware of his movements….

How could she not be? His heavy intrusive steps echoed straight through her. He was loud, clumsy and awkward. He was constantly trying to sneak up on her, frequently throwing things at her head. He was a relentless disturbance to the natural rhythm of vast world around her

…. she decided that it annoyed her.

But then she became acutely aware of his movements…

That wasn't her fault either. Large, busy cities often made her "vision" blurry, riding Appa without a saddle was terrifying, and navigating that damn fishing village was out of the question. She had to hold on to someone and it had to be him. Twinkle Toes was easily distracted, prone to fly off at a moments notice to chase -anything actually. Sweetness was exasperatingly motherly, pointing out every little bump in the road at least three yards in advance. That left Sokka, so what if he told horrible jokes, so what if he forgot about her blindness and walked her into puddles, lampposts and the occasional wall. He didn't baby her and he didn't disappear. In the moments when she was most vulnerable he became a rock to guide her, he became solid ground to steady her. He became her eyes and she could see...him. She could feel his state of being by his pulse, she could tell the time of day by his heart beat

…. she found it uncomfortable being so comfortable with him.

Now she is poignantly if not agonizingly aware of his movements…

She can't blame herself for that can she? Absolutely not! He's the one who had the nerve to up and change without consulting her first. Since his training in the way of the sword he has been, well… different. Since she is stuck with him she has to adapt. She has to pay attention to ever subtle shift and every altered advancement. She notes that his steps have become wider, his stances deeper, his pace slow and decisive or quick, precise and confident. She knows that although he has lost his heaviness he is more solid than ever. His cadence, his rhythm washes over her without her permission.  
Each movement flows like a river;  
he surrounds and submerges her in a single step  
she is in over her head  
he is the closet thing she will get to swimming  
and she's always been terrified of the water  
She tries to block him out but she has grown so use to him that it is nearly impossible. That is why she knocks him over so much. That is why she causes bumps to appear in his path or rocks to rise up under the balls of his feet. His progression is painfully omni-present to her heightened senses. It is even worse when he practices his forms, when she can map the terrain through him as he dances with his blade. Her breath would involuntarily catch within her chest whenever she feels him complete the movements and extend his body fully, the tip of his sword puncturing air before him with his left leg sweeping back behind him. It is way past annoying, it is far beyond uncomfortable,it is insane. It is insane that in the space between her heartbeats he can make everything disappear. She feels him perfectly balanced, flowing with the natural rhythm of the tiny world around them both

….she discovers it to be unnerving,  
because she likes it.


	3. I do not want to be Fire Lord

**I Do Not Want to be Fire Lord**

"_The most powerful weapon in Pai Sho is to have the next move"_

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"I do not want to be Fire Lord…if it takes me away from you." He admitted to his wife the night she married him, he repeated this the morning after when he awoke with her in his arms.

"… if it means missing these perfect moments" He laughed as he lifted his 13 month old son high in the air. The toddler had finally succeeded in walking from the table to his outreached hand without falling over. "… if takes from me that which I love the most, that which matters most." He whispered years later as he bent over the funeral pyre to kiss his son's cheek one last time. He was relived when he returned from Ba Sing Se to find his brother seated upon the throne, his father dead. He was grateful to slip into the shadows.

"… I wish only to drink my tea and play pai sho" He all but shouted to his nephew the night after Ozai had been brought down. It was sentiment he repeated often to the intermittent council of leaders, the old warriors who remembered fighting besides him in his days as General and the young leaderless soldiers who had heard the stories whispered and embellished over draughts of flamewine and firewater…the legends of the Dragon of the West.

"I do not want to be Fire Lord." He said one last time… wearily to the Avatar himself "But what you say is true, it can end the civil wars within this nation, it can bring peace to this land, if the people themselves have called for it… then I shall."

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Now, as he sits lotus upon the throne with a temple priest's hands raised high above his head intoning the sonorous soliloquy of ancient blessings and the rites of passage. Now, as waits for the eternal flame to come to rest upon him he can't help but smile… inwardly. As his monstrosity of a father is rotting in his proverbial grave , as his traitorous brother is turning in it besides him, as the abomination that was his niece rocks back and forth in the tiniest cell of the tallest tower, trapped in the unstable corridors of her unhinged mind... the crown is being placed upon his head- his.

He grants himself the opulent indulgence of smug self satisfaction. He is the Fire Lord and he wants it.

He has reclaimed his throne, his name, his honor. He has survived them all. From his crazed father, to his cruel brother, through the callous horrors of war. He has been to the front line, faced his demons and theirs and he is still standing… head bloodied yet unbowed. For a moment he lets himself revel in it, the pulse of glory the great rolling overwhelming orgasm of victory against all odds… but for a moment only.

He exhales a deep and practiced breath and lets his arrogance, his ego, his self righteousness slip out of him.

Besides, there are more important things to think on.  
First being his heir.

While producing a scion would be a more than enjoyable task he knows it was one he not fully up for. Besides he could never betray Zuko… the same way he could never betray his own son. Yes, he has a guaranteed successor in Zuko. A successor that he has molded with his wisdom, who has gone through the fire and proven himself to be crucible. But his anger his self doubt would be his eventual downfall if not kept in check. So Iroh would see to it that his successor would produce another. And he resolved to live long enough to shape this one too in a better, worthier image of himself and his father. Such a child would need passion and the unyielding, unflinching resolve of a warrior. These are things which came naturally to Zuko and he would pass them on to his progeny. But the future would also need compassion and the unyielding, unflinching resolve of a mother and herein was the crux. The child must be a perfect balance of opposing opposites.

Iroh opened his eyes for a moment to find the answer right in front of him. The mere thought of it almost made him lose his composure. But it was perfect. She was perfect. Politically it would be a flawless match… a symbol of healing and trust. Such a pairing would not only be unheard of in the Fire Nation but the entire world. It might even be enough to shock silent those who still protested against the Fire Nation. Personally she had reminded him of his own wife from the start, soft one moment then exquisitely vehement the next, creatively cunning, sharp of mind and tongue. True, she is a water bender but she embodies the heart of a fire bender. Her element has given her natural grace, poise, adaptability… all things a Fire Lady would need. She could contain the fire and temper it without being burned. More importantly Katara loved fiercely… Zuko needed to be fiercely loved. They would either cancel each other out or create something new. But his experience or hope convinced him that it would be the latter.

She hated Zuko. Iroh was well aware of that but he also knew that hate had the same components and currents as love. He merely had to redirect the flow. Such a thing would be a challenge. But he was master at warfare and most fortunately a grand master at pai sho.

Yes that will do …He thought to himself as the metal tip of the eternal flame came to rest gently upon his scalp…  
That will do just fine


	4. Pieces

_**Pieces, Strategy, Possible Outcome**_

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__

_The Pieces_

Azula is a Knot Wheel. She knows it… Ozai knows it. She is stable, deadly, versatile and deceptive. She can become any piece on the board and that makes her dangerous. But in the end she is merely a reflection of some one else's desire, a blank tablet for someone else's impression. As powerful as she is she remains a wooden puppet, empty, hollow, heavy on substance but shallow in the soul.

Zuko is a White Lotus. He doesn't know that, but Iroh does. Even though it can remove any tile from play the lotus is slow (advancing only two spaces a turn) one can see it coming a mile away. And since it is disarmingly vulnerable (being dispatched by any piece within range) people ignore it. But that is a foolish thing to do. In the end the lotus shows its hidden strength and blossoms bringing together four tiles as one, making them more powerful than before.

_The Strategy_

Ozai prefers to sacrifice his white lotus. He uses his knot wheel to deaden the pieces around it in preparation for the end. Ozai sees the game as he sees the board: the square against the circle each fighting for dominance… yin and yang in opposition.

Iroh sacrifices as well. As Ozai removes his pieces from play Iroh inches his white lotus across the board in anticipation of the end. Iroh sees the game as he sees the board: the square within the circle existing in balance… yin and yang in harmony.

_The Possible Out Come_

The Knot Wheel perpetuates discord leaving vast, empty, unprotected spaces in its wake.  
The Lotus promotes accord weaving bonds that can not be easily broken.

Ozai always leans towards the Knot Wheel  
Iroh always favors the White Lotus.

This is why Iroh almost always wins.


	5. Stubborn

_Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar... but i'm naming my first born Toph anyway_**  
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**Stubborn**

"I told you to GET OUT!!!" Sokka dodged behind the door just as a fist size rock darted past where his head had been.

"Damn't Toph-" He started to come back into the room but Katara blocked his way. She put her hands to his chest. Her forehead was glistening with sweat. Her brow was creased with concern… or was it annoyance?

"Don't provoke her Sokka, " Katara said pushing him away and back outside. "You've done enough already." It was a sarcastic remark. The tightness around his chest eased a little. He relented and went around to the back of the stone hut to resume his pacing. Aang smiled at him sympathetically.

"Women, they're insane." Sokka muttered after a while.

"You shouldn't have fainted like an old lady again." Aang replied, failing to maintain a straight face. Sokka glared at him. Sure the past eight years had bulked Aang up a little, sure they were just about the same height, sure he was the Avatar and although that was a plus he was still a bit on the skinny side and that was a minus… Sokka felt confident that he could take him.

"Aang," Katara's voice broke through Sokka's tactical musings "I need you to re-bend the fire it's getting dark."

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Toph's screams seemed to last forever … well as close as Toph came to screaming. It was mostly shouting...angry shouting brimming with expletives and bursting with accusations. There was the occasional lull every once and while. Fifteen to twenty minutes would go by and then he would feel the earth shift suddenly inside the stone hut, hear Katara yelp and the two would go at it. Things were thrown, threats were hurled and Toph would start up again with the swearing… swearing at him. And he didn't know what was worse the shouting or the silence.

"She doesn't mean it you know," Aang would say when their ears had stopped ringing.

"Yeah I know," Sokka replied not even bothering to hid the twinge of guilt in his voice.

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Sokka continued to keep his vigil tirelessly. He watched the stars blossom in the night sky, flash brightly then dim and die with the promise of a new day. He was grateful that Aang was there, grateful for his silence and at times he was even grateful for his teasing. But he appreciated most was that Aang had stayed awake with him. His presence help keep the nagging persistent and maddeningly creative fears at bay.

It was nearly dawn before Katara came to the window. Her shoulders slumped and sagged, her steps heavy and exhausted. Her smile brilliant and warm. " You can come in now Sokka. I don't think she'll throw rocks at you this time."

Sokka was less than patient as he waited each and every one of the ten seconds it took Aang to undo the solid rock barrier that Toph had constructed over the entry way in a fit of frustration.

He rushed in fully prepared to deal with any obstruction that Toph would dish out. But she didn't even have to lift a finger or raise an eyebrow to stop him dead in his tracks. What he saw gave him pause. What he saw made him feel so much so quickly that for a moment his heart forgot how to beat and his lungs forgot how to breathe.

He knew that this was the most beautiful thing that he would ever see in his entire life. He wished Toph could see it too. He wished she could see how gorgeous she was just then. Her dark hair was loose and wildly matted, her skin was red and flushed with exertion, her pale green eyes shone with tears and in her arms… in her arms their child. Their perfect child.

He abruptly understood. Even though he had accepted and respected Hakoda's decision all those years ago there was still a hollow space, a hole left by his father's absence. That space was now filled with understanding, with certainty, with clarity. He knew that he would die for this woman and for this child. He knew that he would protect them, kill for them, and reshape entire the world with his bare hands if they asked it of him.

"27 hours…longest birthing I've ever done. He just didn't want to come out." Sokka heard his sister mumble sleepily as she leaned into Aang.

He smiled putting one hand upon his infant son and bringing the other to rest on Toph's cheek. He was surprised and warmed when his wife uncharacteristically melted into his touch completely. "You hear that? 27 hours. He's stubborn… just like his mother."

"No," Toph murmured "He's a snoozle just like his father"

"Stubborn,"he said smiling at his wife.

"Snoozle," Toph snorted back sleepily.

"Stubborn," he whispered as he kissed her forehead "Stubborn just like you."

Just this once she let him win.


	6. Barrier

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In the game of Pai Sho one must remember that creating Harmony_(the direct connection of two like tiles)_

may create an equal Disharmony

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His face still stung

Her hands still shook

He didn't speak

Neither did she

The only sound was her uneven breath

the drip

drip

drip of water from his orange and yellow tunic onto the marble floor

and the whimpering of the five month old child she held in her arms

Pressed against her as if it could soothe the dull and throbbing ache of "what if"

and save her

from him

from her desires

from herself

This child

whom she loved as much as she did the man that stood before her.

This child

with skin the color of sand kissed by an oceans wave.

with hair as black as the darkest night and eyes as golden as the shining sun.

This child

Heir to the Fire Lord's throne, symbol of peace to a war torn world, bridge of hope between two nations.

Her child

A barrier between them both.


	7. Deathwish

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**Deathwish of Desire **

_I__f I could follow you i'd take the exact same path  
You took half of me with you... I want it back. _

**  
**

To the blind there is something even deeper than darkness. To her there was something much more terrifying. And it was that which surrounded her now. It was that which gently caressed her every pore. She wanted to scream. To loose the knotted boil of fear through breath and bowel but she could not open her mouth. Dared not to inhale to exhale. Her lungs burned within her chest begging, pleading, and bargaining for a breath. Her heart pounded a wildly staccato rhythm. It was the only thing that vibrated. The only thing that she could see. It slowed, grew dimmer shuddered and faded from sight. And she who had never surrendered before, surrendered to this. The suffocating stillness, the crushing weight of water, and the silence of the deep dark sea.

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The storm was a blinding, biting son of a bitch. The drenching rains were razors and each drop pierced though the crimson fabric to his flesh. But he couldn't feel it. And he refused to listen to the voice of doubt that tried to cut through his focus. He closed his eyes. They were useless in this weather, in this situation. It was too dark to see anything but he didn't need his eyes. He would feel for her. He had to feel for her. He brought his arms down forcing the glider into a sharp descent. His muscles straining against the merciless winds that whipped around him. He pierced through the sky with all the skill and grace of an arrow shot from a masters bow. Down, down into a wicked spiral. He could smell the salt, feel the magnetic pull of the raging water grow nearer. Roaring warnings to stay away. His fingers sought for the rounded hard nubb and he pushed it. The glider collapsed, snapping close. And he plummeted… free falling fast as the crest of a monstrous wave rose up to meet him.

He wasn't going to lose her too.

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"Aang, Aang… wake up. It's time to wake up now." He opened his eyes. There was no darkness, no wetness, no raging sea, no pain. There was nothing except for the soft white light and her. She smiled down at him. "Aang." Her voice was a soft sweet song. He could feel her hand against his face. It was a ghost of a touch. Cool as a lake lost in a mountains . As calm and gentle as those cerulean eyes of hers.  
"Katara?" his voice caught in his throat. Her full lips curled at the edges into another smile.  
"You've grown so much Aang." He raised his hand to where hers was. He traced a slow path along her flesh from her fingertip to her arm, her shoulder to neck, chin to cheek. His thumb came to rest on the upper curve of her high sculpted cheek bone.  
"Katara there is so much… so much I want to tell you. It's been four years and-" She pressed a finger to his lips. He kissed it. She smiled again but this time with sadness. She opened her mouth to speak. He knew what she was going to say. He knew and he didn't want to hear it, didn't want to accept it. He brought his fingers to the back of her head, filling them with her dark thick hair. And swiftly, gently, firmly brought her face to his pressing his lips against hers. He remembered her taste, the smell of her. It had not changed. It had faded but it was still there. He could feel her body becoming more solid against him. He could feel her warming under his touch. He brought his other hand to her back leaving trails of fire along her spine. And she melted into him. Becoming softer, warmer, realer. Her scent filled his nostrils as his tongue filled her mouth. The taste of her grow stronger sweeter. He shifted his weight bringing his body over hers. Pinning her, taking her, pleading with kiss and touch. He could feel her shudder, he could feel her yield to him. She almost did… almost. With all the surprising quickness of river's current she slipped her wrists from his grasp, brought her hand to chest and pushed him just far enough away to free her lips from his.  
"You have grown so much Aang," She said again. He could feel her hands grow colder, he could feel the warmth leaving her as their worlds grew farther apart. "But it's not your time yet. You've got to wake up. Please wake up."  
"I'm so tired. I'm so tried."  
"I know."  
"Please Katara." His tears fell against her cheeks, becoming her own. "Please"  
She was silent.  
"Please Katara… forgive me."  
"I already have Aang. It is you who will have to forgive me."  
There was a sound then. A drop, a trickle then a roar. The briefest of warnings before the water rushed over him. Pushing him away, forcing him away. He had to close his eyes against the sting and salt of the sea. It suffocated his screams, his rage, his sadness. It carried him further away from the two things he ever truly desired in the past four years. He was swept away into darkness, into pain, back into life.

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When he opened his eyes again he saw the blinding brightness of the sun. Felt the heat of it warm his skin. He tried to sit up but he found it hard to move. His torso was heavier than normal. His legs felt sluggish. His arms ached.  
"Welcome back Twinkle Toes." He heard and felt the voice though this center. He raised his head to find Toph at his side. Her body stretched the length of his, her head was against his stomach. Aside from obvious exhausted state of both her clothes and body she appeared unharmed. He breathed a sigh of relief and let his head drop back into the sand.  
"Are you alright" His voice was a hoarse whisper.  
"I'm alive…. Are you alright?"  
"I'm alive." He whispered back gently, sadly. "I'm alive"


End file.
